Day One

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"Nope, this simply won’t do." says my mom for, what seems like the hundredth time.

I tell you, helping my mother pick out one outfit to wear for one day will take you hours. It only took her a few minutes to choose a bathing suit but ,of course, she still needs to pick out a shirt -not too revealing but at the same time let it show something- a nice skirt or pair of shorts to match and don't even get me started about the shoes. This is not how I imagined spending my first morning here. We've just had a busy breakfast of scrambled eggs and rashers but this is far too much time spent letting it settle.

I let her carry on complaining but my mind was, as always, somewhere else. I never usually have trouble deciding on what I'm going to wear so as always I be myself and just throw on something nice. Today I chose my favorite pair of shorts and an almost see though top while underneath I slipped into my swim suit. It’s a cute outfit put together.

After about another half hour later, we were ready to go. Picking up my own handbag, I slip into my flip flops and down to the beach. Looking at the sun now, I could tell it was past mid afternoon so I make my way straight to the warm sand. There’s a lot more people out now than there were yesterday, so the place was pretty crowded. We had to walk a few yards to finally find a place to set our things. It wasn’t too far from the sea and the sand here was soft and warm. Having added a layer f sun cream at the house, I just sit down and soak up the sun some more.

Not long has passed, when another family set their things down beside us. I don’t pay much attention to them at first as it’s perfectly normal for them to stop there and with my shades on, I didn’t even want to care. But that’s when I heard him. It’s weird how I’ve only talked to him once yesterday and I can already tell his voice apart from the others. Without warning, I become very self conscious as I lie there but still sneak a glance to my right, just to make sure it really was him. Of course it was. Who else on this whole beach would have a six pack? Wait... he has a six pack!? How can this one guy be so perfect? And how the hell did I not notice that before?

All I can do is sigh. I don’t know what I still doing thinking about him. It’s never going to happen so what I need is to get my mind away from him. I sit up and take off my glasses to rummage through my bag and take out my novel. Readings always helped me momentarily forget about what was going on in my head. It’s like another world I could escape to when things got too much for me to handle. It was either read or draw. Either is perfect.

But just as I found it, and sat back down, he turned his head and looked at me. I risked a sideways glance at him too... big mistake. A huge grin crossed his face as he probably remembered the clumsy Irish girl from yesterday. So not fair how he was so perfect and I had to be the one to be humiliated.

"Hi, again" He said, still smiling.

“um hi" I wish he didn’t make me so nervous. He was just so calm and relaxed and I had to be... well I just had to be me, didn’t I?

"Err I don’t think we've properly met yet. My names Cameron, but my friends call me Cam. What’s yours?"

Was he seriously trying to make conversation with me? I mean I’ve been called pretty and cute but hot? not so much. I wondered if girlfriends fell into the category of 'friends' who called him Cam.

"Am I’m Cherrie. Short for Cherridan I guess."

"Cherrie. That’s a cute name...Irish?"

"Oh my god, yeah. How’d you guess?" I said, half sarcastically.

"Well, not so much from your name but you've got a neat accent".  I did? Never actually thought of accents but there you go.

"Oh. Never knew my accent was that obvious. What about you? You wouldn’t happen to be Greek, would you?"

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